


In Dire Need

by Queenofthemorgue



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Childbirth, Complications during childbirth, F/M, I have never given birth so I tried my best, Postpartum Depression, Sorry if something is off, depictions of childbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 18:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13393401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthemorgue/pseuds/Queenofthemorgue
Summary: Meg Giry begs to see Christine as she wades through a long labor. Erik runs to bring Christine to her, and is met with a little opposition. Forgiveness is asked. A child is born. With great change to Marguerite.





	1. Forgiveness and great pain

Erik never expected to have be standing in front of the home of the noble De Chagny. The home Christine made with a man he hated not so many years before. The couple left the wallowing, withering by the hour man, alone so far below the opera. He stood staring at the fashionable home the couple settled into after their honeymoon tour.

Raoul and Christine married soon after she was forced to choose a side. Of course she chose the way that would keep everyone alive. Her kindness changed something in Erik. It made him more compassionate, and Meg Giry would thank Christine everyday of her life for it. He released his hold on Christine because of her compassion.

It was late, the night was a deep blue and gas lights lit the path around the grand home. It was not an acceptable time to call by any means, but he was desperate. So very desperate. Snapping out of his nervous, frantic trance, Erik stepped forward to cross the street as quickly as he could and knocked on the door. The first bout of knocks was met by silence, so he knocked again. This time longer and louder than before. After another silence he made to knock again, louder than before, as he was to knock on heavy door but it opened quickly by a servant. He must have been a frightful sight for the young woman stared at him with wide eyes.

"May I help you monsieur?" She was nervous, but not anything like Erik was.

"I must speak with the Vicomte and his wife. Especially his wife." He spoke quickly, and his voice matched his frantic countenance.

"W-who" She stuttered, nervous by him and the air around him. "Who is calling?" She finally asked.

"I-" Erik paused for a moment unaware of what to say. The couple did not know his name to be Erik, and to go by the moniker of Phantom would raise unwanted alarm within the house. "Tell them I am the man who wears a mask. They will know. Make it know that this is very urgent and they most definitely will want to at least allow an audience."

The woman nodded and told him to follow her a to a room not far from the from the double-doors in the front of the house away, the drawing room was lit with a dim fire that had yet to be cleared by a servant. The couple had just retired to bed and had not even fallen asleep thankfully. They were alerted of a visitor as he knocked on the door and the Vicomte took his time redressing while waiting for the name of the caller.

They had retired to Christine's room as usual that night. Christine took to redressing as well, a late caller was a caller she was utterly curious about. Raoul was tying the strings of a fancy petticoat. The nervous servant relayed Erik's message exact. They both snapped their heads to the woman when she said the word "Mask." They then looked to each other and agreed to take the audience.

Erik was told to wait in the drawing room, he took the seat offered to him until the woman stepped over the threshold into the hall, then he sprung up and began to pace in front of the fire. He was too focused on his task to take in any of the finery of the room. Erik had no time for it. He waited, and waited, and waited, for what seemed to be an eternity. A life could be possibly lost in that time, maybe two.

After what seemed hours, the Vicomte entered the room slowly in fear of a trick soon followed by the Vicomtesse. Christine flinched as Erik turned to them at the door. He looked so relieved to see them. Too much curiosity and fear filled the room. When Erik turned to them, the couple watched him with caution. Christine noticed he was out of sorts. He looked exhausted, scared, and so very nervous.

"Monsieur Le Vicomte I am sorry to intrude." Erik spoke quickly and Raoul stopped him from going any farther with his speech.

"Why are you here?" The Vicomte grew older in the years since the opera. He held himself more like a man, more intimidating. Raoul stood in front of Christine as a protector. She hid behind him happily, afraid of how she'd feel to look Erik in the eyes.

"I am not here for me." Erik made sure to make that very clear before making any kind of request from the Vicomte. He believed Raoul had every right to protect his wife and home, so he took any bad attitude he gave.

"Then who for?" Erik paused only for a moment to think. What would her call her.

"My wife" He coughed after he said it. Raoul made to speak in an obviously condescending and unbelieving manner but Erik cut him off. "You knew her as Meg Giry." Christine finally stepped into full view when he said the name of her once best friend. She was immediately worried and inquired as to why he was there for Meg.

"Meg is in labor, She begged me to bring you to her, and I wouldn't have come if it wasn't dire." He took a worried breath before continuing. Erik didn't want to say the words, he couldn't let the universe hear them.

"Marguerite believes she will not live to see the child." Erik was growing impatient, but he tried with fail to disguise his alarm

"Raoul have a carriage prepared." Christine spoke without another thought.

"But Chris-" Raoul had good reason to protest, they had no way to know if Erik was playing a trick. He was as protective as a man could get. Of course he supported his family, but if danger was evident, he was a lion.

"Now!" She yelped nervously. Raoul did as he was told. "If you can bare to wait just a few more minutes." Christine bit her lip, overcome with nerves. Only a fraction of what Erik must be feeling. Men were usually nervous around the births of their children, but Erik was frantic. It made her uneasy for the state of her friend. She knew how hard childbirth is, and could be.

Christine was lucky, the birth of her first child just months before was quick and very painful, but no fear of actual complications were present. Erik paid no attention to her as she sat watching him. He took to pacing again, thinking of all the horrible horrible things Meg could be experiencing, and what he might see when he returns.

After another awkward eternity they gathered into the carriage complete with sleepy driver coming out of his state as quickly as possible. It was quite late. The carriage ride was unpleasant to say the least. Christine felt her heart beating at the thought of her sister being dead before she ever got the chance to reconnect. Raoul kept his guard incredibly high. Erik didn't do anything but shake his leg and count the seconds until arriving in front of the Rue Scribe entrance.

"I wish there was a way to assure you this is not a trap." Erik spoke out after they made a good bit of distance from the home. "I know you are hesitant to follow me."

"It's alright, Monsieur…" She trailed off not knowing what to call him.

"Erik." He filled in the blank for her.

"Erik." The name made him more real, as if he hadn't proved that enough. "We are placing a lot of trust in you, I don't believe you would deceive me again." She of course said nervously.

"If you are misleading us there will be consequences." Raoul spoke frankly.

"Of course." Erik noticed then they were even closer to the opera. His heart raced at the idea of seeing his lovely, suffering wife again.

When they arrived to the Rue Scribe door, the street was too quiet. Erik was afraid it was the sound of foreboding. Unlocking the door Erik looked around for any peering eyes and let them into the hall first. With another scan of the area Erik swooped in and lit a match for the lamp he kept by the entrance. Once ready he took them the fastest way possible down into his home.

Christine grew more nervous as they plunged deeper and deeper, she really began to indulge the thought of trickery. What if her friend was sound asleep that very moment, resting soundly with the title 'Mademoiselle' intact? What if it truly was a trap, and Erik truly was a mad man forever?

She could tell they were close, the water made the air so very cold.

"I will forgo the lake." Each of the three were thankful for the alternate route. Erik sped up considerably after saying this. Christine clutched at Raoul's hand even harder than before. Raoul brought her so much comfort, just his hand was enough for her to continue on.

Finally they reached a set of double doors and Erik opened the unlocked door without much care. Immediately the couple were met with the home they knew would never leave their minds. The colors were warm, as was the air. This time the house by the lake, actually felt like a home. Erik ripped off his cloak and jacket as he led the couple down the hall and threw the garments on the closest piece of furniture.

As Erik turned to walk down another hall parallel to the one they just followed, a man Christine recognized as the man who frequented box eight, appeared from a room with a little fancy glass of wine. He stopped Erik in his tracks.

"Drink." Erik took the glass and took the drink in one go. "She's fine." Erik let out a loud breath relief. So did Raoul and Christine, Christine for her friend, Raoul for Christine. The unknown mans word proved to him this wasn't a trick. "No progress unfortunately. She's in very much pain though, but handling it so very well."

"Make the Vicomte comfortable please." The Daroga nodded and made to greet Raoul. "Would you like to see her now?" He turned to a still stunned and scared Christine. Christine nodded quickly, and followed behind him as he made his way down the hall. Erik knocked on the door she knew to be the Louis-Philippe room, then opened it before receiving an answer.

The first thing she noticed was the fact that the room that used to be suited for her and her complexion and been completely redecorated to fit Meg with the utmost accuracy. It was comforting. He really did seem move on.

The next thing she saw was Madame Giry looking relieved to see the both of them. Madame Giry hugged Christine with great happiness as Erik ran to Meg lying on the bed. She heard Meg before she saw her. Erik bombarded Meg with questions about her health.

"Erik please, I'm alright!" She indeed did not sound as she claimed. Her tone was one Christine had never heard, even after hours of punishment from the strict ballet mistress in the room with them. They all pitied Meg, and feared so very much for her light to fade from their lived. Christine pulled herself from Madame Giry's comforting arms and felt like she was moving in slow motion as she looked to Meg. She looked as weak as she sounded. Even then she was beautiful. Her hair was fluffy from writhing on the bed, her skin red from crying.

She watched Erik kiss Meg gently, She sat up to hug him, then Meg drooped to lean against him and Erik kissed her forehead and held her as Meg's face scrunched in pain. Meg wrapped her arms around Erik's neck, and hid her face in his neck as her eyes teared up. The dull pain that stayed with Meg grew worse as a contraction took hold over her.

Meg gave up vocalizing her pain before Erik even left her, it took too much energy. The contraction was long, just under a minute, but the seconds dragged on for everyone in the room. Meg gripped at Eriks shoulders, her little fists shook with shock.

Christine watched them as she stepped away from Madame Giry, who was watching for any change in Meg, she stepped around the large bed to the side opposite of the one Meg and Erik were on. She gently sat down on the bed as Erik laid Meg against the propped pillows. Meg eventually loosened her grip on Erik's shirt, and he leaned back to have a look at his wife. As he did Megs hidden face came into Christine's view.

Christine let out a little pitiful gasp as Meg opened her eyes and two streams of thick tears fell down her face into her hair. The blonde turned her head to the noise and her breath hitched at the sight of Christine. She made to sit up but couldn't because Erik kept her lying down by the shoulder.

"Christine!" Meg couldn't believe it. She knew Erik left to bring Christine to her, but in all honesty Meg had trouble believing Christine would be available. Erik returned much faster than she imagined, she was simply too happy to see him return to remember why he left on the first place. Meg turned her head to look her husband in the eyes, Erik knew the look she gave. One of pure thanks. He simply nodded his head. Christine watched the exchange of wordless understanding with a happiness in her heart.

There wasn't a day that went by where Christine didn't at least wonder where or what The Phantom was doing. Was he still in Paris, did he flee to another place and begin living a quiet life. Did he still live far below the stage watching, waiting for a new pupil, or reason to terrorize the opera house? Or did he die? He looked close to that very fate when she left him months ago. There were times she regretted not bringing him with Raoul and herself above ground.

Something about the way they looked at each other comforted Christine. She knew she made the right choice not staying with him, or taking Erik with them above. If she did, they wouldn't be in this stage in life. Her friend, a hopeless romantic and raging dramatic and him just the same. A little match that was meant to be, even if it took extreme heartbreak to get there.

Erik helped Meg sit up again after a little silent pleading from the blonde. When she was finally up and settled, she reached for Christine. In that moment Christine saw the same ballet girl she had seen so many times leaning in to talk to her.

"You came! I'm so sorry, it's so late! Christine I made him find you. I've never been so afraid." Meg admitted. "Can you ever forgive me for not telling you. We once shared everything, and now it's been years since I've even seen you. I've written so many letters!" Meg rambled on until Christine shushed her.

After so many years of being a nervous wreck, their roles switched. It was now Christine's turn to comfort her friend. Even if they hadn't been in contact, they thought of each other every day. Erik moved away from the large bed and walked down the two steps just a few feet from the end of the end down to one of the loveseats in front of an extravagant fireplace.

"Little Meg." Christine sighed in happiness and sat closer and hugged her once closest friend. "There is nothing to forgive."

"No. Christine. You have to know, not telling you about our relationship-" Meg looked to Erik pretending not to listen. "I should have told you."

"That doesn't matter." Christine was a mother. She stroked Megs hair the same way she did her daughter just that morning. "You are happy?"

"Immensely!"

"Then it is settled. There is nothing to forgive, and even if there was, I would forgive you." Christine began to cry with Meg.

"Why are you crying?" Meg said through a chuckle.

"I've missed you, that's why!" They continued to talk and laugh. After a few minutes, Meg whimpered again. Erik came to her side as nonchalantly as he could. He was obviously still frantic. His false calm made Meg smile. Erik was too sweet to her. She at times felt like she didn't deserve him. While Erik felt that he didn't deserve Meg.

"Madame Giry?" Christine got up from the bed to give Meg and her husband space and walked to her former teacher. "How long has she been in labour?"

"Just after noon." Christine was shocked. She knew it was slow-going but she didn't expect it to be that long. Meg was in a great deal of pain, which grew with each contraction. But her body wasn't building to active labour.

"Do you mind if I stay?"

"Cherie, of course." Christine turned back to the couple to see Erik take out a handkerchief with a very obvious pink M on. The couple shared a sweet moment which Christine refused to break through. Once she felt comfortable cutting in, Christine went back to Meg.

"Do you wish for me to stay?"  
"Only if you wish! Of course I would." Christine nodded.

"Let me send Raoul home." Christine almost made it to the door when Erik called out.

"Have the Daroga escort him upstairs." She nodded again and walked down the hall to her husband and the man she assumed was the Daroga. The two were talking as old friends. Raoul was charming in practically any circle. They both stood immediately when they saw her in the most gentlemanly manner. Christine walked up to her husband and messed with his collar.

"I'm staying with Meg. You should go home, it is going to be quite awhile." Christine turned into a Vicomtes public-wife as she turned to the man she assumed was The Daroga. "Erik told me that you were to escort him up." The Daroga nodded and said it was his pleasure.

"Christine not so fast! I haven't heard a single cry of pain, how am I supposed to know Mademoiselle Giry-"

"Madame Beauvais!" The Daroga cut through the Vicomtes passionate, and frightened exclamation. He was a dear friend of the couple, and held Meg in the highest regard. "Is quite fine, I assure you. Though she is in a great deal of pain, you may see her if you like."

He was a sweet man in any other situation besides now, and certain stressful times at work. Raoul was a protector at heart. After The Phantom made his love choose between saving him and living with a ghoul, or saving herself from a monster, Raoul became a lion. Christine had never seen him so worked up since that night in the very home they stood in years ago.

Raoul looked between the man who was taller and wider than him, and his wife who was waiting for a response. He decided to give up, and just trust Christine. They said their goodbyes.

"I'll be back tomorrow if you haven't come home." Christine lovingly smiled, and forgot that there was another in the room.

"Of course you will, darling." She kissed him. The Daroga simple watched. Being a close friend of the Beauvais, he was used to outright displays of affection. He waited to take the young father upstairs. Christine remembered where and who she was suddenly and tried to turn from Raoul blushing. He simply held her there, said something sweet and bid her goodnight.

The Daroga assured Christine that he would be back soon and began to take The Vicomte upstairs.

"I am sorry, Monsieur." Christine said quickly before he could leave.

"It is nothing, Madame. I am…. Quite used to such displays."

"Do they-" She cut herself off. "What are-" She did it again. "Are they happy?" Christine had to know. Each person in the couple played an incredible role in Christine's life. No matter how difficult they made it.

"As much as you are with Le Vicomte. Maybe even more." Yet another comforting fact to Christine. Meg was clearly in love, and Christine was overjoyed with that fact. And Erik, he moved on. He became a person willing to swallow his pride. He was always passionate, and now it was sweet, actually loving, not obsessive.

She nodded and made her way back down the hall. Madame Giry came out of the room to show Christine where the kitchen was. She then left Christine to sleep in the room Erik once slept in. When Christine came back she was somehow shocked that Meg was actually there. She was tired, and felt like she had convinced herself that she would not be tricked again.

Meg laughed the best she could through her pain. Me thought herself pitiful, she'd definitely admit that. Her husband was doing anything he could to help her pass the time. The little blonde laid on the bed with her dear Erik. He sat against the headboard a laid back almost diagonally on his chest. Erik ran his hand through her hair. Meg's eyes were closed. She was tired and just moments from sleep. If only her body would let up and let her.

Meg opened her eyes when as Christine paused at the door. She made to move and Erik tried to help her move.

"Don't move!" Christine came closer and set the pitcher back into its matching bowl on her nightstand. Meg outstretched her hand and Christine of course accepted it. The blonde told her to sit on the end of the bed, she took hold of that opportunity to catch up.

After some hours Meg noticed that Erik was asleep, she turned her neck up and confirmed her suspicion. She couldn't help but laugh. He needed it so she didn't fight it one bit. Christine let a bit of her propriety go and laid down as well. Meg smiled at her failed attempts to stay awake.

Meg had even fallen asleep, for just a few minutes then she woke up to a pain even worse than all the ones before. A tear came from her eye as she squeezed onto a still sleeping Erik. He woke up to the sharp feeling of her manicured, pointed nails breaking his skin. Cursing his decision to a give her her buffer hours ago, Erik looked around and checked on Meg in a nervous manner. Christine opened her eyes to a very frightened couple.

"Erik, it's different." Meg told him through a whine. Her breathes quickened and Erik did everything he could to calm her back down. Christine left to find Madame Giry, even if she had her own child and been through the process, she needed Madame Giry to tell her how to even calm Meg down.

As if someone had sped up time Megs childbirth moved forward quickly. Madame Giry and Christine had sent Erik out of the room. They tried to keep a little bit of commonplace rules during this incredibly natural process. Erik stood in the kitchen as the Daroga watched him clean the blood from the little nail-shaped wounds on his arm.

Soon Meg began to push. The child's head was born. However, there was a problem with the next step. It's as if the child refused to continue, they stopped at their own shoulders. Madame Giry was terrified, as well as Christine. The umbilical cord was wrapped around the little ones neck. Madame Giry tried to unwrap the cord but couldn't. She decided she had to wait until the child was freed. In an attempt to free the child her mother made to shift the shoulders of the child, only to have Meg yell and beg for her to stop.

"I want Erik." She somehow managed to pitifully say. Meg was almost delirious in exhaustion and this added physical stress made her feel as though she'd pass out very soon.

"You will see him soon." Her mother seemed adamant.

"Mother, if you do just one more thing for me-" Meg took in a shallow breath. "Ever!" She screamed again. "You'll let me see my love!" She sobbed in pain and at the thought that of leaving him. Without giving a chance for Madame Giry to tell her no, Christine ran to the hall and called for Erik.

He came running in and was deeply disturbed at the scene. Meg gave the tormented groan once more as her mother, Antoinette, tried to turn the child again.

"Mother, please!" Erik came around to her and Antoinette explained that she had seen a woman on staff at the opera gave birth to a child the very same way. Then had to turn the child to continue. Christine sat close to Megs right side close to water and with hands ready to help. Megs breathing got quicker and even more shallow and Erik held her jaw to make her look him in the eye.

"Look at me- Look at me. Darling breathe." He got her to breathe slower. In and out, in and out, etc. etc. As he took the place of Madame Giry, who explained the problem as fast as she could, and put his hands on the very pink child. "Let me help you." She nodded quickly. "Together?" She nodded again and repeated through her tears. Now was the best time Erik could possibly have his calming voice. Everyone was most thankful for it.

Erik counted to three and turned and pulled the child. Meg pushed onto her abdomen because of the overwhelming pain and screamed louder than the first two times. Christine opened the towel prepared for the child as Erik successfully unstuck the child's shoulders. Antoinette coached them through the rest of the process and interjected to finally unwrap the cord as Erik held the child.


	2. Chapter 2

A little Boy. Alive, thankfully. Despite how quiet he was. It took him a few moments to cry. In those little seconds that felt like an eternity to her, Meg transformed. It was as if a little fire in her was put  out.  Meg chalked it up to being exhausted. They placed the child on her chest in a haze. All Meg recognized was that he was warm.

 

Meg couldn’t look  at him. Her eyelids felt like unmovable weights. She heard her mother taking her through the afterbirth. Then Christine picked up the warm child from her unresponsive form to clean him so Madame Giry could clean Meg and let her finally sleep. Erik had stepped away from the bed after Madame Giry led his hands to lay the boy on Megs chest.    
  


He watched as any new, incredibly shocked father would. Unsure of what to do, and amazed at the feat. A new role. A new human being. A child. And his sole responsibilities were for the child and his wife. He watched his wife was filled with a sinking feeling. She was trembling and held her eyes shut. Meg didn't touch the child when he was lying on her chest. She held her hands just next to his torso just in case he tried to wiggle his way around. 

 

That stretch of time after the birth felt like nothing to Meg. The soiled petticoat was removed. The thick clean shift was drawn down. Then all of a sudden she felt arms lifting her up. A pain shot through her but she was too in shock to react much. The whimper that came from her caused Erik great pain. 

 

She was sure it was her husband as his mask hit her face as he kissed her forehead. Meg couldn’t open her eyes, they were too sensitive to even the low light. Her brain didn’t let her hear clearly. She only heard drowned voices and a ill-inducing humming. Erik watched her head bob as she fought to stay awake, fearful of what would happen if she fell asleep. Meg had heard the horror stories of childbirth. So much death. She couldn’t willingly go towards the inevitable. Not yet. 

 

Her body finally gave in before she was even placed back into the bed.  Meg felt like a ragdoll in Erik's arms as he places her softly onto the bed with fresh sheets. Limp limbs terrified him. Madame Giry stooped down in front of him pulling up the covers up over her. Erik tore himself away her to look at the child. Christine held him on one arm, his little head full of thick, dark hair was cradled in her hand.

 

Her other arm went between the large bowl filled with warm water, wiping the child with the softest washcloth she could find. Erik walked around the bed to the other side and then closer to the vanity along the wall that the bowl Christine stood over sat. As he stepped closer he came out of his daze and heard Christine prattling over the baby. She poured clean water from the pitcher over the little head to keep him warm. The little boy didn’t show any signs of dislike, but instead relaxed. 

 

“Ah, You like the water don’t you?” Christine giggled. “My little Charlotte screamed the moment any bit of water touched her.” The little bit of Erik that was attached to her at one point still left in his body ached over the fact that she had a child with the Vicomte. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for it. His love, the woman who had just given birth to his child laid just behind him. Quite possibly soon to die. 

 

“But of course she was being washed by my sister in law who I’m convinced hates me. I think my darling girl could sense it. Don’t you think?” Christine giggled again. Christine was so afraid of motherhood before giving birth to Charlotte. That being a mother would take away her freedom. Freedom was something she needed to survive. Of course being married kept her chained in a way. But Raoul would take her anywhere she wanted. All she had to do was ask. And she did. 

 

They lived in Sweden after everything was done. They lived happily and Christine waited until she was inevitably pregnant, which took longer than expected she would admit. As she swelled, Christine longed to be with Mama Valerius for her birth. The mother-figure came to her at her request, but couldn’t stay forever. Monsieur Valerius was still alive, even if they were both aging. 

 

When it came time for Mama to leave, Christine decided she no longer wanted to be away and begged Raoul to take her back to Paris. He of course resisted at first, but he could not say no for long. So with a three month old in tow they traveled as a family back to Paris. Now the child was five months. Little still. They set up a new home just out of sight from Mama Valerius for Raouls comfort. For Christine, it was comforting to be so close.

 

Though Raoul's sisters did leech onto their lives in contempt. They were older than her by ten and thirteen years. They shamed her at any turn. It was no wonder that Christine was “indisposed.” so often. 

 

“She likes baths now, just like you. Though she does smile now, you won’t do that for a while.” Christine realized she was prattling after this. She couldn’t help it. Something about children made her talk and talk. Maybe it was the fact that they couldn’t respond.

 

“Yes let’s wrap you up. Warm and cozy.” She swaddle the baby and turned to Erik. Madame Giry went to the shocked man and sat him down next to Megs sleeping form. Christine showed him how to hold the child and Madame Giry went to her daughter. She fell asleep too quickly for comfort. In just a half hours time they would have to persuade her to wake up.

 

And so the baby cried as expected. Ready to eat for the first time. The shrill crying did nothing to wake Meg. Erik knew she had fainted rather than simply falling asleep. He held the child close to him and bent over to kiss Meg's head. It took some time for them to wake Meg. When they did, she groaned and could barely open her eyes. Erik handed the child back to Christine and attended to his wife. 

 

When he looked back to her face, her eyes were wide open. They pierced his soul. Something sad rested there. It frightened him. They did not speak. Only the sound of the crying child was heard. 

 

“Ma Cherie. You must try to feed him.” Madame Giry spoke to her.

“Him?” She hadn’t forgotten the child, but never learned the sex before fainting.

“Yes! A little boy.” Erik smiled to her. His smile made her feel guilty. Why was he so happy? The numbness she felt was too overpowering. 

“Healthy?” Another reason to cause guilt. She could not muster any other response.

 

None responded. Each hesitating. The child, however pink he was, was small and weak. He did not cry with the intensity of a newborn. Meg despised the silence. She started to cry, turning her head into the pillows. Erik flipped her back over, his hands on her jaw. 

 

“Marguerite. Darling, he will only get worse if you do not feed him.” Christine watched through silent tears. She knew how much Meg longed to be a mother from the first week she met her. Meg would cottle little ones and discipline like a mother whenever it was necessary. It broke her heart to see Meg this way. Though not as much as it broke Megs. “Please, Meg.” She nodded her head slowly. 

 

Meg tired to sit up but could not get very far. Erik took her under the arms and scooted her up to lean against the headboard. She was clearly still exhausted. He untied the ribbon of her shift for her. Antoinette brought the child and got him to latch with no problem. Meg still didn’t look at him. She was so afraid. Afraid of falling in love with the sick baby. 

 

She wanted to love him, so very much, but her mind would not let her. Meg fought with herself as she held the child to her body.  Please just open your eyes! Meg thought to herself. Tears ran from her eyes until she physically could no longer cry. All three watched the scene without an idea of what to do. Christine stood in the room uncomfortable. Antoinette kept her composure but was disappointed for her daughter. 

 

When Madame Giry gave birth to Meg, her life was complete. Nothing made her happier. Not even dancing. Erik couldn’t help but be hurt. He misread Megs actions, mistaking them for a fear of the child looking like him. Erik backed off of the bed after kissing her head. 

 

He left the room and walked down the hall to the Daroga. Who was waiting with brandy. He collapsed into the throne and didn’t make it very far before sleeping. When Meg was finished Madame Giry took the child away from her fragile body. Christine jumped up and help Meg wiggle her way back to lying down. Her friend brought her a fresh glass of water to keep by the bed.

 

“You should go home. I've kept you too long.” Her tone was sincere, but something was different.

“I’m glad I was here. Meg…” Meg opened her eyes to her friend. A little warmth returned to her eyes after they opened. “I regret not having you in my life. You missed my wedding. My first child. If I was with you I would have asked you to be her godmother.” Meg laughed at the thought. She was never the religious type. 

 

“Do not think of that. We are together now, and we will be here for more babies.” 

“Forgive me for not writing?”

“Only if you forgive me for the same.” They agreed and Christine hugged Meg and promised to visit soon. Madame Giry told her she would call in a few days and escort her down to the house by the lake. 

 

“Mother get some rest.”

“But-”

“I won’t protest to feeding him.”Meg knew exactly why they hesitated leaving. Christine cooed over the baby in the bassinet once more as Madame Giry explained to her daughter the signs of hunger. Christine and Antoinette both kissed Megs forehead and bid the new mother goodnight and left the room.

 

Meg was left alone. By her own design. She wanted a moment with her thoughts. She dry heaved for lack of tears. Meg looked over to the bassinet with the baby. The blankets moved with breath. She still hadn't taken a look at him. Meg was terrified that somehow he’d die on sight. After a few more moments, she was unconscious again. 

 

Not much later Madame Giry, Christine, the Daroga, Meg and the baby were all asleep. The only one not, was Erik. He went back to their room and crept into the low lighting. Meg slept soundly. He worked to make sure his long limbs kept quiet so as to not disturb her. Erik placed the chair closer to Megs bedside and the side of the bassinet. 

 

Meg woke to the feeling of his sharp eyes. He was upset, she could  feel  it. When she opened her eyes, her suspicion was confirmed. She made to ask him what was the matter but he stopped her. 

 

“I love you.” Meg tried not to tremble.They way he said it, was frightening. Phantom like. She stifled an awkward laugh and started to say it back.

“I-” He stopped her again. This only added to her confusion.

“And I love him.” He peered over into the bassinet. Finding nothing of the little ones health alarming. He knew nothing about babies.

 

 

“I love you both.” She meant every word. 

“Do you?” Meg grew incredibly defensive. At the question. At the tone. The tone covered in his former self.

“How could you ask such a thing?” Meg wanted to hit him but couldn’t move far enough, even if she tried.

“How could I not. Have you taken a single look at him?” She did not answer for a moment. Then slowly shook her head. A wicked guilt and embarrassment overwhelmed her. Meg cast her head down.

 

“I’m afraid.” It felt like a weight was lifted from her, but only so much.

“For him to look like me? Because I can assure you he-” 

“NO!” She cried out a little too loud to him. “I would never.” Meg finished in a soft voice. She knew in her heart that she would not care if her little one was deformed. The love of her life is deformed and she loved him with all of her heart.

 

“Then why?” He stared incredulously. 

“Because I will love him?” Even Meg couldn’t explain it. A mother should love her child. She felt as though she was going against nature but couldn’t stop herself. 

“Is that so bad?” A tear escaped from his eye. Her rejection was different from his own mothers. But the sting he felt for his son hurt nonetheless. 

 

“If I love him he will die.” Meg started to sob. Something in Erik changed. Instead anger for his son. He felt sorrow for his wife. “I can’t explain it!” Erik got up from the chair and sat on the bed. She hid her face in her hands. Erik pulled her hands away and she collapsed into his chest and cried. Meg looked up from his shoulder and continued.

 

“I know he is not well.” She sniffled. “When I asked after his health nobody told me yes. And then you told me he would get worse if I didn’t feed him.”

“I-” 

“I’m so sorry Erik. I’m so sorry.” She spoke over him. Then repeated this a few more times between racked sobs. 

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t make him healthy! That was my job. He didn’t even cry when he was born! I’m so sorry. Erik will you ever forgive me?” Megs distraught tears were even more heartbreaking than the thought of  her being afraid of a deformity. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  She felt guilty. Immensely. She was afraid that if she took one look at the child she would fall too deep in love, and if the child would die, she would be in too much grief to go on. Erik pulled her away from his chest and held her face in his hands.

 

“My heart is breaking. I want to look at him. I’ve wanted to be a mother for so long.” The pain in her voice was immense. “Why am I so afraid?” She implored him. He kissed her. There was so much pain was in her body it almost killed him. She trembled as he pulled away just enough to look at her in the eyes. 

 

Erik turned his head to the bassinet, while Meg looked to her lap. Meg still wept. The little boy was awake. He leaned over to the bassinet and did his best to lift him. Meg slowly turned her head to them. Something she would consider one of her strongest feats. Erik was struggling with the child. He was clueless. When Christine rested the child in his arms he didn’t hear her directions at all.   
  


“Hold his head.” Meg watched Erik work his way to holding the little boy’s head in his hand. The little boy she tried so very hard to resist quickly turned into the most conflicting boy in another way. He was simply delightful. His little face was round and slightly resembled an old man, but naturally so. He didn’t look as sickly as she expected. If anything, she would claim him to be healthy. He must have improved greatly in his few hours.

 

Erik brought him closer with extreme care, peering down on him with wonder and fear. Meg patted the bed for him to sit closer. He thanked himself for his occasional grace. Meg reached up to take off his mask. She refused to have her child not see all of him in their own home. Even at such a young age. 

 

“Meg, no.” She paused. 

“Erik.” She said sadly. “I do wish for him to see you.” She searched his eyes. “He will not be frightened of you. Babies know nothing of hate. Not for one's appearance at least.” He nodded slowly. She whimpered as she reached for him. He was a little stretch away. Erik responded by bringing himself much closer to her and apologized. 

 

Meg pulled the mask away and messed with the hair flattened by the wire. She pulled the mask to hold it to her chest, and looked down to the child for a deep look. He was the most handsome little boy in the history of existence in her mind

 

“There.” She whispered with a smile. “Nothing to be afraid of.” She touched his little face with a light finger. She knew babies to be soft, but her son was the softest. Meg was sure of it. She grew quite protective of him in that very moment.

 

Meg knew she was unwell. What mother would refuse to look at her child for fear of loving them? What mother would be overcome with guilt since the birth? Everyone would blame it on her poor nerves, but she knew better. Something in her was different. Unbelievably so. After years of wanting to be a mother, why would she all of a sudden feel she is not fit for it?

 

Yet in the same vein feel as though no one but her could take care of the little one better than her. Meg ran her finger of his lips and his mouth opened wide. She recalled the little signs her mother told her right before she left to sleep. He was hungary, not yet enough for him to cry. 

 

Meg untied the ribbon at the top of her shift. Erik understood what she was doing. She wept as the little boy searched for her breast for a while before settling. Then she cried a little more. She was proud of him. Little and tiny him. 

 

“Frederick.” Meg looked up to Erik quickly. “I know that wasn’t your favorite ch-” 

“It’s perfect.” She was so happy. He looked down to him. “Frederick.” Erik nodded with a smile. “Nothing could be better.”

 

“Then it’s settled!” Meg looked back down to the boy. “Frederick  Marcellin?” She asked. “For my father?” Meg held her father very dear. He died at her tender age of ten. She boasted about how her father gave her her coloring and looks when Meg talked about him. She hadn’t intended to name him after her father, but she thought his nose was far too similar not to. 

“Of course.” He kissed her forehead.

 

“Frederick Marcellin Beauvais.” He said it a large, official and regal voice that made her laugh. “Simply Perfect.” He kissed Meg.

 

“Thank you, my dear. You were wonderful.” Erik continued to complimenting his wife for giving him this, and for working so hard to do it.

 

Meg and Erik enjoyed their first moments of solitude as a new family in love, and happiness. Of course something ill still nipped at Meg, but she did her very best to resist it. At Least for that moment. 


End file.
